by Anne Forbes
“Yes, we gathered that,” nodded Hamish. “We followed him back to Randolph Crescent and saw the French flag hanging over his door. The police had to escort him in, you know, for there were crowds of fishermen protesting outside. That Trade Union fellow, Jimmie Leadbetter, was the leader and the language he was using was something terrible.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Sir James grimly. “Feelings are running high at the moment. But you said you were watching a house … in Moray Place, did you say?”
“Yes,” Hamish smiled, “as pigeons, of course!”
“Actually, I know someone who lives there … but go on …”
“We knew it had to be Kalman,” Hamish said seriously. “If he hadn’t put a protective shield round his house we might never have noticed, but it warned us that something was going on. So we kept watch and that’s how we picked up on the French Consul fellow.”
“The strangest thing of all,” interrupted Archie, “was that when he went into the house, he called Prince Kalman, ‘Mr Stuart’.”
Sir James choked.
“Are you all right, Sir James?” said Archie, looking concerned.
Sir James choked again, so utterly flabbergasted that he could barely speak. “He called Prince Kalman what!?” he spluttered.
“Mr Stuart,” repeated Archie.
“You … you must be joking!” Sir James was appalled. “If it’s the Stuart I’m thinking of, he couldn’t possibly be Prince Kalman.”
Archie frowned. “It was definitely the prince,” he said, looking at Sir James strangely. “We felt his magic, you see. It couldn’t be anyone else.”
“Was he tall, with long, fair hair tied at the back of his neck?”
Hamish nodded. “And he was wearing a brocade waistcoat under his suit.”
“That’s the man,” breathed Sir James. “Good Lord! Ned Stuart! A magician!” He shook his head in wonder. “I really can’t believe it!”
“Do you know him then?” asked Archie curiously.
“Know him?” Sir James breathed hard. “Know him! Of course, I know him! He’s an MSP, isn’t he? A Member of the Scottish Parliament!” He ran his hands distractedly through his hair. “And you’re telling me that he’s Prince Kalman! How can he possibly be Prince Kalman?”
Hamish smiled sourly. “Kalman has the crown, Sir James. He can be anyone he pleases.” He frowned and drew a deep breath. “The pity is that we have only found out about him now. Do you know how long he has been calling himself Stuart, Sir James?”
“No, no I don’t. He’s new to the parliament, like me,” confessed Sir James, pacing up and down, his mind in complete turmoil. “Very popular he is, too. In fact, he’s so well thought of that people are talking of him as a future First Minister! You know, I really can’t take it all in! Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
“Believe me, there’s a protective shield round that house that a herd of elephants couldn’t shift,” Hamish said evenly. “This Ned Stuart fellow is Prince Kalman. There’s no two ways about it, I’m afraid!”
Sir James turned suddenly and grabbed Hamish by the arm. “The mirrors!” he gasped. “I thought they looked familiar when I saw them in the Turkish restaurant! I remember now! Ned Stuart has at least two in his house. I saw them in his study the last time I was there.”
“That proves it, then,” nodded Hamish slowly. “If he has such mirrors in his house then there’s no doubt that he’s Kalman.”
“But why would he be entertaining the French Consul?” mused the Ranger. “We’re more or less at war with the French these days, aren’t we?”
“That’s what I thought,” agreed Archie.
“The prince has a reason for everything he does,” observed Hamish seriously. “What I’d like to know, is where he’s been this past year!”
“Well, if he really is Ned Stuart, then he’s been here in Edinburgh,” Sir James looked at him in surprise. “I’ve been to his house several times. He entertains on quite a grand scale.”
“Did you ever wear your firestone when you went to see him?” Archie asked, somewhat anxiously.
Sir James shook his head. “No, I usually keep it locked in my desk drawer.”
“Thank goodness for that! You might have had a very nasty accident, otherwise!” “You don’t think he might have hexed me or something, do you?” Sir James looked more than a little alarmed.
“It’s more than likely!” confirmed Archie. “You’ve had a lucky escape, Sir James!”
“Just as well I didn’t wear it then. Really, I only ever use it if I’m coming here and need to call a carpet — or if I think something strange might be happening; like MacGregor’s tale of the disappearing Turkish restaurant!”
“Kalman’s really being a bit cheeky,” muttered Hamish, disgustedly. “Using the power of the crown to hide himself from us is one thing, but to do it here in Edinburgh, right under our very noses …”
“But why on earth did he put a protective shield round his house all of a sudden?” asked Jaikie, puzzled. “We didn’t know he was in town. He didn’t need to do it and it was a dead give-away.”
“What was a dead give-away?” asked Lady Ellan as she and Clara joined the little group amid a flapping of wings as Amgarad swooped to land on Clara’s shoulder.
“Kalman suddenly putting a protective shield round his house.”
“The Turks!” Sir James said immediately. “It must have been! Their restaurant was at the bottom of the High Street just yards away from the Scottish Parliament. And it was oozing magic! He must have picked up on it!”
Hamish raised his eyebrows. “I bet that gave him a nasty shock,” he grinned. “I know it floored us when we realized that Sulaiman the Red’s Turks had set up shop in the High Street! But you’re probably right. Kalman would be terrified that they’d latch on to the crown.”
“As far as I’m concerned,” muttered Sir James, “it isn’t just a matter of us getting the crown back any more. I think there’s another problem we have to address. If Kalman is involved with the French, then quite frankly I think it’s my duty to find out what he’s up to. They are pushing their claims to our fishing rights to the brink of all out war, you know. It’s no laughing matter.”
“You could always merge with the Frenchman and find out what he and Kalman talk about when they’re together?” suggested Clara, idly stroking Amgarad’s wings.
Archie shook his head. “That wouldn’t work, Clara. Kalman would sense at once if anyone had merged with the consul. We’ll have to think of something else.”
“Surely what we need is someone inside the consulate itself,” Lady Ellan mused. “Don’t you know anyone who works there, Sir James?”
Sir James shook his head. “Everyone who works there will have been cleared by security. I honestly doubt if we could manage it.”
The Ranger, smiling at the sight of the eagle perched on Clara’s shoulder, was suddenly visited by a brainwave. “We should send Amgarad! Just look at him, sitting on Clara’s shoulder! In an ideal position to read letters and listen to phone calls. Couldn’t you magic the count into wanting an eagle as a pet? Or something?”
“Mair like the or something,” growled Archie. “And isn’t Amgarad a wee bit noticeable? I mean, he’s an eagle, for goodness sake.”
“Well, he could be a parrot .. or … or a canary, I suppose …” Jaikie looked hopefully at Amgarad who looked so black affronted at the suggestion that the idea was promptly dropped.
“We could mention it to Rothlan,” Hamish said hurriedly, “and maybe, Sir James, you could question the count at this shooting party that you were talking about?”
Sir James nodded. “I only hope he doesn’t cry off. De Charillon doesn’t have many friends at the moment!”
“Where is this shoot taking place?” asked Archie interestedly.
“At Gleneagles,” answered Sir James, naming one of Scotland’s most prestigious hotels. “I’m really looking forward to it. I just hope that the rain holds off for
long enough to give us a good day. The forecast isn’t promising.”
12. Magic Words
Lady Ellan turned and smiled a welcome as Lord Rothlan, Sir James and the MacLeans walked into a small cavern that had been hurriedly decorated in the Turkish style in honour of the Sultan’s visit. Arthur, curled beside her chair, reared up and hissed softly in pleasure as he saw the children.
“It’s just like being in Turkey again, isn’t it?” Sir James remarked as they entered; for the walls had been lined with low divans, Turkish carpets lay deep on the floor and several of the ornate brass coffee tables scattered round the room were piled high with large dishes of fruit.
“Bags I sit beside Arthur,” Neil said quickly, as he ran to sit beside Lady Ellan. Clara, however, just grinned and moved towards Lord Rothlan so that she could be beside Amgarad.
As the Sultan entered, deep in conversation with the MacArthur, they all stood in respect and, following Lord Rothlan’s lead, bowed low.
“The Sultan and I have been discussing the crown,” the MacArthur said, settling himself on a divan while Arthur curled himself carefully by his side. “You will all be pleased to hear that Lord Rothlan has agreed to lead a party in a quest to get it back. Ellan will go with him and possibly Jaikie and Hamish.” The MacArthur looked doubtfully at Sir James and the Ranger as though hesitant to involve them in danger. “How do you feel about going, James?”
“I’d love to but I really don’t see how I can,” Sir James said with a frown. “Not only from the work point of view but I think I’d actually be of more use here in Edinburgh. From what Archie tells me, it seems that Prince Kalman is calling himself Edward Stuart. As he’s a Member of the Scottish Parliament I want to find out what devilment he’s up to. Especially if the French are involved! You know that their trawlers have been fishing illegally in our waters and attacking our boats?”
The MacArthur nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Kalman’s behind it all — and the very fact that he’s had himself made a Member of the Scottish Parliament is a bad sign. Quite frankly,” he sighed, “the sooner we get the crown back, the happier I’ll be!”
The MacArthur’s eyes then turned from Sir James to the Ranger.
John MacLean didn’t wait to be asked but nodded immediately. “I’m quite prepared to go, if you think I’d be of any use.”
“And us, Dad!” interrupted Neil. “Don’t leave us out! We want to go! Don’t we, Clara?” said Neil imploringly. “It would be such an adventure and Lord Rothlan and Lady Ellan are going as well!”
There was a hushed silence as everyone looked at the Ranger and his wife. John MacLean heaved a sigh but knew he had to refuse. “I’m really sorry,” he said, looking guiltily at the MacArthur, “but it might be quite dangerous.”
As the Sultan and the MacArthur exchanged dismayed glances, Sir James spoke hastily. “Maybe we should talk a bit about the risks first,” he said. “For instance, where is the crown? Does anyone actually know?”
“If Kalman has magic mirrors in his house then he will probably be keeping the crown at Ardray,” Lord Rothlan answered. “He’ll have his mirrors set so that he can travel backwards and forwards easily.”
“Where is Ardray?” Clara asked.
“Ardray? It’s in Appin; quite close to Jarishan.”
“Is his castle on an island, like yours?” Neil queried.
Rothlan shook his head. “Kalman’s castle lies in the middle of a magic forest,” he said. “It’s actually more of a tower than anything else. The Black Tower of Ardray,” he mused. “I used to go there quite often when I was young. Kalman and I were friends in those days. Since then, it seems to have changed a lot. From what I hear, the magic forest is full of goblins now.”
“Wow!” Neil’s eyes widened at the thought.
“Couldn’t you use the mirrors you have here in the hill to get to Kalman’s castle, MacArthur?” queried the Ranger.
“That would be risky,” was the reply. “Mirrors are not only tricky things to set but they can quite easily be locked against intruders. And if you get caught between mirrors — when both sides are locked, that is — well, that’s more or less it! You get held in a kind of limbo land!”
“Won’t the crown be protected?” queried Sir James.
The MacArthur nodded. “Its magic will protect it but the Sultan doesn’t see that as an obstacle. He knows the magic words that will release it from any spell. Whoever says them will be able to take the crown from Ardray.”
“Well, that all sounds relatively straightforward,” said Sir James, “but how would you get there? On magic carpets?”
“We’ve talked about that,” Rothlan interrupted, “but the MacArthur feels that we would be too easily discovered. Birds and other animals can see magic carpets in the air and Kalman has his spies watching us already. According to Hamish, one of his crows has been patrolling Arthur’s Seat, so we have decided that it would be best to travel back in time and only revert to the present when we reach Ardray.”
The Ranger looked dismayed. “Travel through time!” he echoed. “But I thought …” he stammered, “I thought we’d be going by car or by train to the nearest station.”
“You’d never get there,” Rothlan assured him. “Any train or bus we travelled in would be sure to have an accident and we can’t take the risk of innocent people being hurt, you know.”
“You’ll be well looked after, Ranger, I assure you,” the Sultan added. “I’m supplying everything you’ll need for the journey — including the finest horses from my stables at Ruksh.”
“At Ruksh?” repeated Lord Rothlan and Lady Ellan together, meeting the Sultan’s eyes in startled wonder.
Neil met Clara’s eyes in rising excitement. No way was he going to miss out on this adventure. A journey through Scotland on horseback! In the past!
“It’s not actually the journey that worries me, Ranger,” the Sultan said dismissively. “It’ll only take a few days and you’ll travel safely enough with Lord Rothlan looking after you. No, if there is going to be a problem, it’ll be with the crown itself; for Prince Casimir, remember, used its own magic against it.” He regarded them all seriously. “You see, the fact remains that although it lay for many years in Lord Rothlan’s loch, it didn’t reveal itself to him, did it? Although it tried to attach itself to Arthur,” and here he turned to the dragon and inclined his head, “it didn’t stay with him either but, in the end, fell back into the loch and returned to its master, Kalman. The Meridens have a very strong hold on the crown and what I am afraid of is that, after what happened in the loch, nobody here will be able to take it from Kalman, even with the magic words. Except, perhaps …”
“Who?” asked Sir James, looking at him sharply.
The Sultan looked apologetically at the MacLeans. “The children,” he said.
He raised his hand at the murmur of dissent. “Please let me explain. The children have no magic in their bodies for the crown to react to, but if I implant the words of the spell in them, I will virtually be speaking through them and my words will be powerful enough to break any spell that ties the crown to the prince.”
“Yeeeah!” Neil leapt to his feet, punching the air. “Great! Now can we go, Dad?”
Clara, too, looked excited as Neil grabbed her hands and whirled her round and round.
“Clara! Neil! Calm down the pair of you,” Mrs MacLean scolded. “Really, your behaviour! And in front of the Sultan, too!”
Both children collapsed on the divan, their eyes shining with excitement.
“It’s all right, Mrs MacLean,” the Sultan said, his lips curving in a rare smile. “I, too, was young once.”
At this remark, Sir James shot him a speculative glance. Just how long ago, he wondered, had that been!
“Perhaps,” suggested Lord Rothlan, “it might be a good idea for Neil and Clara to wait in the Great Hall until we’ve talked this over.”
John MacLean nodded in agreement. “Off you go, you two,” he said. “We�
��ll call you back when we’ve decided what to do.”
Neil made a face at Clara but they got to their feet willingly enough and walked along the short tunnel that led to the Great Hall.
“What d’you think, Neil?” Clara asked despondently as they plumped themselves down on a couple of cushions. “Mum’ll never let us go. Not in a month of Sundays, she won’t!”
In this, she was mistaken, however, as once Mrs MacLean heard Lord Rothlan’s plan to take the crown from Ardray, she looked less worried and eyed her husband questioningly.
“Neil and Clara are as dear to us as they are to you, John,” Lady Ellan urged gently. “We’ll all protect them from any harm that might come their way, you know that. And remember, you’ll be with us, after all.”
“The Sultan, too, turned towards the MacLeans. “I know how you both feel,” he said, meeting their eyes understandingly, “but if you allow the children to carry my words, I assure you that they will be protected throughout the journey. It’s my intention to give each rider a magic cloak. As long as they are wearing them, neither heat nor cold, hunger nor thirst will affect them — and, of course, the cloaks will shield them from any hexes that may come their way.”
“Our plan is relatively simple and straightforward,” Rothlan said, outlining what they intended to do. “Kalman may be a powerful magician but even he can’t be in two places at once, you know. The MacArthur will keep in touch with us through the crystal and when Kalman’s attending an important meeting or a session in parliament, he’ll tell us so that we can go into the tower and take the crown.”
“What about getting through the magic forest, though? Won’t there be a protective shield round it to keep people out?” the Ranger objected.
“Probably,” admitted Rothlan, turning to the Sultan.
“The magic words will destroy any protective shield,” the Sultan assured him.
